


all the very best of us string ourselves up for love

by blueabsinthe



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anaheim Ducks, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come Shot, Communication Failure, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Lack of Communication, M/M, Offseason Shenanigans, Sexual Tension, Tampa Bay Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:43:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All night, you held my alibis<br/>so softly, like taboos</p><p>already broken.</p><p>[Or, Nate and Val are poor communicators about what they want].</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the very best of us string ourselves up for love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkone/gifts).



> I hope this is what you were looking for, darkone! Takes place this past offseason. Also, I fudged the canon a tad for this one, in that, Nate isn't spending his offseason recovering from rupturing his Achilles tendon.
> 
> Title from The National song 'Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks'. Summary lovingly borrowed from the absolutely fabulous poem [why things burn](http://sharingpoetry.tumblr.com/post/17804358077/daphne-gottlieb-why-things-burn), by Daphne Gottlieb.

Nate’s Los Angeles apartment is bright and airy, with nothing but sun and sea for miles. Val imagines it sets him back a tidy sum, but with the view Nate gets on an almost daily basis, it seems worth it. 

Nate spends most of his time on the balcony when he’s there, looking out at the water. Today is no different. The suns rays beat down on his bare chest and arms, the condensation on the outside of his beer bottle creates a small puddle on the table. Los Angeles in August is nothing like Tampa, Val realizes.

Their contact was minimal after Nate’s trade to Anaheim. Sure, there was the ‘see you soon’ text, but nothing set in stone. So Val was quite surprised by Nate’s insistence he come see him in the offseason. He lets his head rest on the back of the chair, the suns rays tickling the fine hairs on his arm. The air is thick and boozy, his thoughts clouded from the heat and the beer. 

Val could feel the weight of Nate’s gaze on him, despite the dark sunglasses shielding his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long they had sat on the deck, listening to the distant sounds of the surf against the sand, but Val didn’t feel like breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“You look like you’re a million miles away,” Nate finally said.

Val tilts his head to look at Nate. “Nothing gets by you.” His lip twitches in amusement as Nate smirks at him. 

He lets his eyes meet Nate’s across the space separating them. Val feels like the world falls away from them, and he half wonders if the heat has gotten to him. 

“You okay?” Nate’s tone is softer, more intimate.

Val nods, clears his throat. “Just thinking, that’s all.”

“About?” Nate prompts.

Val’s hand grips the lounge chair arm so hard, his knuckles are white. He slides his sunglasses off, lets them rest on the table, before he looks at Nate, a hint of vulnerability shining in the blue depths.

“Why’d you ask me to come visit you this offseason?”

“Early playoff elimination this year.” Nate tried to keep his tone light, even went so far as to laugh, before he took a sip from his beer.

Val’s eyes narrowed. “Is that all?”

Nate shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

Val was silent, lips pressed tightly into a thin line as he went over Nate’s question in his mind. What was he looking for here? It wasn’t like they’d declared anything. Besides, isn’t this exactly where he’d ended up with Bishop halfway through the season? Questioning what they’d been doing, until he’d grown tired with all the indecision and walked away. He wasn’t stupid enough to think Nate hadn’t kept himself company with someone else all this time. Or maybe that’s what Val convinced himself of, because it made it easier when he had been with Bish. 

“I … I don’t know,” he finished lamely.

Nate was silent as he gets up from his chair and slips back inside the apartment. 

Val isn’t sure how long he sits there, his thoughts churning violently as he stares out at the surf. He wants to kick himself for being so asinine about what he wants, and not realizing it until now. He levers himself up out of the lounge chair and disappears after Nate.

Nate was leaning against the kitchen table, his sunglasses on the table now, arms folded across his chest. “Does it really mean that much to you?”

Val huffs in annoyance. Nate is staring at him in a way he finds unnerving. He wants to shake him. _Give me something … anything_ , he thinks, curling and uncurling his fingers at his side. Val settles for letting out an exasperated noise, before he balls his hands into fists to stop his body from shaking. “Damn it, Nate,” he blurts out.

Nate sighs and reaches out to touch Val’s arm. “It’s fine. Things’ll be fine.”

Val pushes at Nate’s chest, the words leaving his lips in a rush. “You can be so infuriating sometimes.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to stem the frustration building up in his stomach. “Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?”

“I’m being an asshole?” Nate blurted out. 

Val shook his head, and pushed Nate away from him. “Whatever, Nate, really. It’s fine. Think whatever you want. Lord knows why I was even stupid enough to think this was something you still wanted.”

Nate reached a hand out, and Val shrank back instinctively. Instead, he felt Nate place his palm against his cheek. “Val …”

Val curled his fingers around Nate’s wrist, gently tugging it away from his face. He wanted to remember what it was they’d just been yelling at each other about, but he found the longer he stood there, eyes locked on Nate’s, his mind didn’t want to cooperate. There was an undercurrent of tension between them, laced with something else. Something Val was sure they were both feeling. He sees himself move like he is watching someone else, until they’re standing so close to each other, Val can feel the heat from Nate radiating off him in waves.

Before Val knew what was happening, Nate’s mouth was on his, and his body slammed against the nearby wall. His surprise at Nate’s action was a muffled cry, and a fist curling around a handful of Nate’s shirt, tugging him closer. Nate shifted his position, lining their bodies up so every line and angle were touching. Val was silent, his eyes sliding shut as the tip of Nate’s tongue touched his lips. 

Val kisses him back and Nate tastes like beer and salt and he runs his hands over Nate’s shirt, feeling the way Nate’s heart beats under his palm. He can feel the way Nate’s skin burns under his thin cotton shirt. Nate’s fingers play with the hair at the base of his neck, as he hauls Val’s hips to his, grinding against him. Val can’t help the whimper that escapes his throat, his fingers digging into Nate’s shoulders to keep his knees from giving out on him.

Nate moves his mouth away from Val’s, so he can kiss his throat, his teeth scraping at the tendons in Val’s neck. 

“Couch,” Val manages to get out.

“Better idea,” Nate mutters, before he tugs at Val’s arm, leading him down the hall.

They undress before Nate pushes Val onto the bed, his mouth running desperately over every inch of bare skin he can find. Val exhales and spreads his legs as he looks up at Nate. The blue of Val’s eyes are dark, his lips swollen. Nate runs the tip of his tongue over Val’s lips as he reaches down with one hand, the tip of his index finger brushing against Val’s ass. 

Val trembles, his eyes fluttering shut as he covers his face with his hands. “Nate … don’t … I can’t - don’t stop …”

“Shh. Hold on.” 

Val watches as Nate moves off him, pulling the bedside table drawer open. He watches Nate intently, lips wet and slightly parted. His cheeks are pink, the flush spreading down his neck and chest. Nate popped the cap on the bottle in his hand, squeezing a fair amount of lube into his palm. Before Val could say anything else, he felt Nate’s fingers curl around his cock, stroking along the length in a long, languid glide. 

Val bites his bottom lip, turning his face into his shoulder, hips rising to meet Nate’s hand. He felt Nate’s mouth against the side of his neck, teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh. Nate’s free hand brushes through the thin strands of Val’s hair, before he draws Val’s head up to meet his mouth.

Nate moved his slick palm over Val’s cock, mouth swallowing his cries. Val can feel the heat of Nate’s body against him, can smell his soap and shampoo, and it makes him dizzy. Nate moves his fingers from Val’s cock, and before Val can protest, Nate is sliding two fingers into him. Val bites his bottom lip, pushing against Nate’s fingers in an effort to feel more. 

“Nate, please …” Val manages to get out. 

Nate draws back, fumbles around blindly for a condom, before he tears open the wrapper, and slides the thin latex over his dick. Val watches as Nate slicks his length, before he’s shifting Val into position on the bed. Val feels Nate’s cock against his entrance, and he shifts under Nate to hurry him along. 

Nate slides into Val in one long, sure stroke, and Val chokes out a cry, before he grinds down on Nate’s cock. “Too long, too long,” Nate murmurs over and over against Val’s neck. 

Val doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he settles for nodding, burying his face against Nate’s neck. 

Nate’s hands skim down the sides of Val’s body, before they grip his hips tightly, and he thrusts into him, over and over again. Val arched his hips against Nate, trying to create more friction between their bodies. 

“Fuck,” Val managed to get out when he was able to speak. “Fuck, Nate.”

Their bodies were slick with sweat, the fingers Nate curled against Val’s hips slipping as he drove into Val’s body harder, drawing a low moan from Val’s throat. “Missed this … missed you … fuck, Val,” Nate mutters over and over to the air.

It doesn’t take much more of Nate’s thrusts before a sob escapes Val’s throat, and he claws desperately at Nate’s arms. Nate manages to curl the fingers from one of his hands around Val’s cock, working it hard and fast, until Val’s body goes taut and he comes, white-hot splashes that coat their stomachs and Nate’s hand. Nate follows closely behind Val, moving inside him in relentless strokes, until he arches above him, lips slightly parted as he tumbles and falls into his own climax.

Some time later, they’re laying on their sides, facing each other, neither speaks for the longest time. 

“Sorry,” Nate finally says. 

“For what?” Val says, index finger tracing across Nate’s chest, before he slides it down to trace the line of his hip.

“For being an asshole earlier. This is something I still want.” He laughs, and grasps Val’s wrist, dragging it away from his hip. “That tickles.”

Val tries his best to smile. “Okay.”

Nate shifts his body closer, resting his chin on the top of Val’s head. “We’ve got time.”

Val slid a hand down Nate’s side, resting it on his hip. “Yeah, we do.”


End file.
